


You Hold Moonlight in Your Hands

by toradhiontach



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) - Fandom
Genre: Bullying, F/F, Fighting, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Homophobia, M/M, Protective Kurt, Protective Scott, Self Confidence Issues, Slow Dancing, Slurs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toradhiontach/pseuds/toradhiontach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott asks Kurt to the school dance, or at least he tries... it's a little more complicated than intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I'm basing a fic off a song! When will I stop? This one is from Ariana's new album, not surprisingly, Moonlight. It's just this amazingly vibey retro love song? It sounds exactly like what would play at a high school in the 80s, anyway Dangerous Woman (2016) is #classique.
> 
> So, I'm unable to stop writing sappy stories that inevitably turn angsty, because I'm #messy like that.

He saw him sitting on a window seat on the third floor in the east wing of the Manor, reading a large book with a content expression on his face. The rays of sun shining through the giant window backlit Kurt's shiny black hair and deep blue skin, making him less like a devil and more like an angel- an angel in a sweater vest. With the deeply stained wooden walls and the ornately fabricated window seat, the whole scene looked like a pristine renaissance painting. 

Scott peeked around the corner of the hallway he was hiding behind. Fortunately, there was a grandfather clock not too far from him with a glass door so polished it worked wonderfully as a mirror. Scott checked his face for blemishes, and his nose for any unpleasant surprises, and fixed his hair, patting it down furiously in the back. He smoothed down his shirt and jacket, then made sure he had nothing in his teeth.

' _Okay, Scottie, you can do this. It's just Kurt… wonderful, amazing, kind, gentle, perfect, Kurt. It's just a dance, no big deal. Let's do this,_ ' Scott thought to himself, hoping that Kurt wasn't harboring a secret telepathy.

The little blue fuzzball was probably completely oblivious to all the hubbub about the upcoming Fall Dance. The Xavier Institute wasn't exactly large enough to host a dance, and there were only a handful of high school aged students besides. So the Professor had asked the nearest public school to let his students attend.

The administrators weren't too happy about mutants attending their social event, but Xavier persuaded them.

Scott had asked around, and Kurt expressed no interest in asking any of the girls (or boys), and if he was interested, he was good at keeping that to himself. Jean had refused Scott's offer of five dollars to read his mind about the subject. But Kurt mostly kept to himself, and almost never associated with humans, at least not without one of his mutant friends to accompany him. 

"Come on Scott, just ask him," Scott whispered to himself.

"Wea is dau?" Kurt said suddenly, a twinge of panic in his voice. 

' _Damn,_ ´ Scott thought. He forgot about Kurt's sensitive hearing. But it was too late; Kurt definitely saw Scott duck around the corner.

"Scott?" he asked, his face looking less worried and more pleasantly surprised. A swash of purple colored his cheeks. Scott loved that shade of purple. 

Scott shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and strode forward, the thick carpet muffling his shoes. He nodded at Kurt, stopping to lean against the wall when he was only a few steps from his crush.

"Hey."

"Servus!" Kurt chirped at his friend, his eyes crinkling up in delight. Sliding a bookmark into his page, Kurt gently set his book down on his lap. He shifted his undivided attention to Scott, patting the space next to him. His red-rimmed yellow eyes stared at Scott with affection. And of course he would be wearing reading glasses (did he even need them?!) He was unfairly beautiful.

' _Here goes nothing,_ ' Scott thought to himself, sitting down next to Kurt. He tried to will the courage to just ask him the Big Question already, but he knew he should probably talk to him first, before asking him out? Lighten the mood? Make it seem casual? Scott didn't know what to say, so the two sat in silence for the better part of a minute.

Kurt's eyebrows furrowed, his little pout only made him cuter in Scott's eyes. His fingers drummed impatiently on his book, his tail lolling slowly behind him.

Kurt could be a very talkative person, but sometimes he was more content to sit in silence. Scott had noticed over their months of being friends that Kurt usually waited for someone else to initiate a conversation. Scott could usually provide that, but he was tingling from his gut all the way to his fingertips. He used every inch of willpower he had not to nervously fidget, although Kurt was fidgeting enough for the both of them.

"Scott? Wås woist du? Woiast du ma ebbs zu sång?" Kurt broke the silence after he couldn't take it anymore. His tone was a little peeved, but only just a little (this was Kurt Wagner after all). But Scott knew he spoke in German when he was annoyed.

Scott had taken German at his old high school; he considered himself pretty good at it, but Kurt's flamboyant and undulating Bavarian accent always threw him for a loop. He just stared blankly ahead as Kurt eyed him expectantly.

"Um… Ich weiß nicht?" Scott said dumbly. His mouth twisted and he clasped his sweaty hands together tightly. At the very least, his clumsy, ugly, _awful_ German brought a smile and a breathy chuckle to Kurt's face. Kurt should only ever smile. 

"Deina Deitsch is sauwa schiach… how you say, ugly, Scott," Kurt rolled his eyes, but a soft laugh followed soon after. 

Scott blushed, his face ruddying obviously. To save face, he leaned back against the window and propped his head up with his hand. He doubted he successfully held his 'cool-dude' image intact. However, they were talking about something, right? Scott decided to go with it. Ask Kurt to the dance by talking about how much he sucked at speaking German- shouldn't be too hard.

"In my defense, Kurt, I don't think even fluent people could understand _you_ ," Scott smirked, though inside his nerves flared. If he offended one his best friends, before asking him out… Scott would ask Jean to disintegrate him if that happened.

"Oh don't tease," Kurt said playfully. Instead of taking offense though, Kurt puffed up with pride. His little smile was satisfied. 

"Yeah, I guess saying your accent is unintelligible is kinda hypocritical," Scott laughed nervously. "But even if it sounds like gibberish it's still pretty…" he swallowed thickly, wilting under Kurt's admiring gaze.

Scott wanted to die.

"Jå," Kurt agreed happily. "In Boarn we are quite proud of our speech. It is flowing and graceful, and it is ours. It is my country. The people in Boarn are, and of course not in Minga, but most other places in Boarn, well they are… backward, in some ways. But it is home. You must have pride in your home."

"Wow," Scott breathed, so utterly enraptured by the way Kurt's hands flew this way and that, the way his tail flew around the little alcove, the way his eyes shone when he talked about something so important to him. 

"That's more than I can say about my home." Scott said. He curled an arm protectively around his torso, his knees coming up so he could tuck them under his chin. He vividly remembered all the bullies and all the whispers and all the disappointed looks his parents would give him, even before he knew he was a mutant. 

"I'm sure there is something to be proud of about your home," Kurt said easily, starting to absentmindedly kick his legs, a nonchalant hand resting near Scott's foot. Scott stared at it like it was a live bomb.

"After all," Kurt continued with a shy voice, "it is where _you_ are from, no?" he finished in a whisper, a single giant finger gently daring to brush against Scott's ankle. Scott's heart fluttered from the compliment (and the touch), but he kept his face unreadable, his mood still soured somewhat from remembering his awful town and awful school and awful everything.

"Not much to be proud of when you're from Bumfucksville Ohio, population: more assholes and douchebags than you can count," Scott scoffed. "Nothing to be proud of, dude. Not even me." 

Kurt's eyes widened in shock at Scott's vulgarity. His face fell, his tail noticeably drooping, and his shoulders tensing.

"I- I'm sorry, friend," Kurt said, shock clear in his voice. "I didn't mean to bring bad memories to you," his voice got smaller and smaller as he spoke. A deep plum color rushed to his cheeks, and he started shifting his weight around. He looked like he was going to bamf away. 

' _No!_ ' Scott thought, ' _I want to always make you blush, but from telling you how beautiful and smart and kind you are, not from embarrassing you or hurting your feelings._ '

"Wait!" Scott reached out his hand and grabbed Kurt's wrist. It felt like he had been struck by lightning; he released his grip immediately. 

"That was… rude. I'm sorry. I'm glad you think there's one good thing that came out of my town, even if I don't," Scott shifted forward and tried made his smile more genuine, so Kurt could see it reach his eyes behind his glasses. He couldn't tell if it was working.

Kurt's body relaxed and a tiny smile found its way back onto his lips. 

"So what you got there?" Scott asked nervously, gesturing at the book on Kurt's lap, desperate to change the conversation.

"Oh, this is a book on gardening. Jå, Ororo and I want to ask the Professor if we may start an herb garden here on the grounds," Kurt explained. He too look visibly relieved that their chat had shifted to a less unpleasant topic.

"That's… that's _adorable_ ," Scott whispered. His cheeks tinged pink when he realized what he had said.

Kurt just giggled, his tail swishing happily, whipping furiously at the compliment. "Thank you so much, my friend," he said putting his hand over Scott's. Scott suddenly felt dizzy.

"I'm glad you approve, I think we should grow our own parsley and basil and whatnot," Kurt continued. "Ororo has quite the green thumb. She took a small branch that fell off a tree and planted it, and it's still growing now!" Kurt sounded like it was the most amazing thing he had ever witnessed. 

Scott nodded along, not really that interested in gardening. Of course, though, while he himself couldn't care less about plants or whatever, just seeing Kurt's eyes spark with passion and his usual optimism was what kept Scott fully invested. He could watch Kurt speak about things he loved for hours. 

Unfortunately, the Dance was only four days away, and Scott needed to prepare, so he had to find a way to nudge the conversation toward that topic. He needed to get it over with already. 

"Hey," he gently interrupted. Kurt stopped rambling about different plant species and stared at him quizzically, cocking his head. He was so damn cute, how was Scott going to get through this?

"Um… I need to ask you something," Scott's voice trembled slightly, even after he cleared it twice. He felt a wave of nausea rising in him.

Kurt's expression shifted from curiosity to worry. He clasped both of Scott's hands in his.

"Scott, your hands are shaking. Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah, totally fine." Scott lied, his smile so fake that even poor oblivious Kurt could tell. Scott felt white hot dread filling him. He couldn't do this. He couldn't even ask Kurt a simple question. Doubt flooded through his mind, and his hands turned numb. He inhaled sharply, afraid he might pass out. 

Was Kurt even into guys? If he was, why would he settle for someone like Scott? Why would he willingly dance with Scott in public, in a gymnasium full of people who normally whispered 'muties' whenever they passed by? Why would Kurt risk being bullied for being a mutant and a queer? 

' _I'm so pathetic, _' Scott mentally beat himself up. There was no chance this would ever work.__

__"Scott, what did you want to ask me?" Kurt prodded gently, but the worried slant to his voice didn't go unnoticed to Scott. His mouth fell open in surprise when Scott slid his hands out of Kurt's grip._ _

__"I have to go, um, do something real quick. I'm sorry. I'll come right back, okay?" Scott got up from the seat and started shifting his feet around, hoping Kurt didn't hate him._ _

__"Okay, Pfiaddi," Kurt's voice sounded so hurt. So he definitely hated Scott, great. As disappointed as the fuzzball looked, he nevertheless gave Scott a little wave to send him off._ _

__"Yeah, pfa- pfi- bye. I swear I'll be right back, I just, uh, gotta go do something real quick," Scott promised. He waved in return, before realizing how ridiculous it looked for two teenage boys to wave at each other indefinitely when they were three feet apart, so he shoved his hand into his pocket._ _

__"Don’t bamf anywhere while I'm gone, you promise?"_ _

__"I won't," Kurt muttered. He also quickly lowered his hand and put it back on his lap, over his book._ _

__"That's my boy," Scott smirked as he started walking backward and shot a few finger guns at Kurt. Why did he think that would make him look cool!?_ _

__Kurt's shy smile returned to his face, so at least it cheered him up some. He mumbled "ba-ba", and Scott's stomach churned. Scott started making his escape before he upchucked all over the expensive carpet. His last glimpse was of Kurt sighing, but reopening his book, shoving it up to his face. Scott felt like such an asshole._ _

__As soon as Scott rounded the corner, he started sprinting toward Ororo's room, his heart racing, his nerves fringed._ _

__A few students glared at him as he barreled past them down the corridors and down the staircase. but he didn't really care. This was too important. He even jumped the rails right before the second floor landing, earning a few gasps from some younger girls after he almost landed on them._ _

__"Ororo!" Scott shouted, as he reached her room, pounding on her door incessantly. A passing student told him he was going to get in trouble for making so much noise and practically punching the Professor's door, but Scott told him to get lost._ _

__Finally the heavy oak door swung open with an Arabic swear to accompany the creak of the hinges. Ororo stood before him, looking grumpy (he couldn't exactly blame her). She slid the headphones off of her head, her eyes demanding an explanation. Scott could hear Pat Benatar playing on her walkman._ _

__"Scott," she intoned coolly. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. "What can I help you with?"_ _

__Scott noticed her looking him up and down, and he realized what a mess he must seem. He was panting, noticeable sweat stains starting to form on his shirt, his hair probably ruined, at least she couldn't see how wild his eyes were behind his shades._ _

__Ororo's eyebrow raised a hair. Clearly she expected Scott to explain why he was wasting her time._ _

__"I couldn't do it!" Scott whined. The white-haired girl sighed and rolled her eyes, but after considering him for a few seconds, nodded her head back, retreating into her room._ _

__"Come in," she said quickly._ _

__Scott followed, feeling his stomach twist in knots and taking off his jacket to cool himself off, pit stains be damned._ _

__Scott saw Jean lounging on Ororo's bed, reading a magazine. She was wearing one of Ororo's jackets, Scott noticed. When he glanced back at the jacket owner in question, she was wearing Jean's jacket._ _

___Oh._ _ _

__"He chickened out, and now poor Kurt is confused and hurt," Jean said calmly, not once looking up from her magazine. It was a statement, not a question. Ororo just shrugged, more for Scott than for Jean. They both knew that she knew everything they were thinking._ _

__"Scott," Jean said, considering her words, turning a page, "I thought you were… more put together than this." Her eyes finally darted up to at least acknowledge his presence._ _

__Scott and Jean had tried dating, for about two months. It did not work out._ _

__"Kurt does that to him," Ororo mused, sitting down next to Jean, throwing an arm around her shoulder._ _

__"Oh, I know what Kurt does to him," A tiny smirk flicked across Jean's mouth. Scott's face burned bright beet red._ _

__"So, I can only assume that you broke Wagner's heart and came here expecting us to comfort you?" Ororo said, though not unkindly. Jean settled more snugly into her side, putting down her magazine and staring softly at Scott._ _

__"Well no, not exactly but- look," Scott crossed his arms across his chest, "I was just hoping for, more advice?"_ _

__"Scott asked you for advice on how to ask Kurt to the Dance?" Jean asked incredulously, though Scott and Ororo didn't buy it; a girl who can read thoughts is never surprised._ _

__"What? Ororo is Kurt's best friend… well- well besides Jubilation, oh, and you Jean, and me too obviously, and well, actually everyone is Kurt's best friend, Kurt loves everyone," Scott trailed off, unable to help smiling dopily. The two girls sighed in adoration, Ororo muttering a 'see? I told you they would be a cute couple'._ _

__"But anyway," Scott collected his thoughts. "Ororo is Kurt's best best friend. He tells her everything. I just asked her what the best way to ask Kurt to the Dance would be, I didn't think it was that interesting to _you_ , Jean." _ _

__Ororo snickered, "He seemed to be under the impression that I was skilled in the art of wooing people."_ _

__Jean leaned in closer and gently kissed Ororo's exposed collarbone, "Well, he was right. You wooed me, after all," she whispered softly._ _

__"Ororo and I are going to the Dance together," she added for Scott's benefit._ _

__Ororo beamed, attempting to start nuzzling her apparent girlfriend, before Scott cleared his throat, snapping their attention to him._ _

__"But, as you can _probably_ guess, I blew it. And- oh God- I left him sitting there waiting for me to come back!" Scott started trying to run back to Kurt, before stopping himself, shifting back and forth, wishing he could just scream._ _

__"Look at him, he's so desperate to get this right. InshAllah, we must help him," Ororo begged Jean, taking her hand and kissing it._ _

__"Hmm, alright" Jean decided, furrowing her brow. She held out her hand, and the door closed. "It _would _be cute if we could all go to the Dance as a double date," she decided.___ _

____"Sorry Scott, but you're going to have to leave Kurt out to dry for now. Just apologize later, tell him you were sick, he'll understand. He's Kurt." Jean told him with a stony confidence._ _ _ _

____"Don't look at me like that, would you rather let him think you abandoned him? It's true isn't it?"_ _ _ _

____Scott nodded, conceding to her point, and sat down on the floor at the foot of Ororo's bed. His nerves shifted to excitement. He rubbed his hands together._ _ _ _

____"Okay, impart your wisdom. How do I fix this mess?"_ _ _ _

____"Listen closely, my pupil, forget everything you think you know, you're not the lover boy you thought you were," Ororo said, trying her best to imitate Mystique's raspy voice, despite her rather thick accent. Scott struggled to stifle a snorting laugh._ _ _ _

____"Ororo is absolutely right. You're nowhere near as suave as you think you are. But we'll help you ask Kurt to the dance," Jean took over. "Well, we won't _be there_ in person to help you ask him, but we'll help facilitate things."_ _ _ _

____"Yes," Ororo added. "By the time you have your first dance together, Kurt will be so in love with you… he…" she trailed off, searching for an apt metaphor._ _ _ _

____"So in love with me what?" Scott asked. If he weren't wearing shades, his friends would laugh at how wide and trusting his eyes were in that moment. They would also be maimed or killed by his optic blasts, but in their final seconds they would probably think he was a total lame-o who was whipped beyond belief._ _ _ _

____"Well, he'll be really, _really_ in love with you." Ororo finished. "But first, you must ask him. _Properly_ this time. With our guidance, nothing can go wrong."_ _ _ _

____"Let's do this," Scott pounded his fist onto his open palm. "But, we'll need sweet-ass code names," he added quickly._ _ _ _

____"No," both girls said in unison._ _ _ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw implied references to self harm

"Don’t bamf anywhere while I'm gone, you promise?"

"I won't."

Kurt sat dutifully on his window seat, legs crossed, tapping his foot to the beat of some imaginary song along the wooden crown molding beneath him. Soon he started humming the melody of one of Dazzler's new songs. It was her latest track about being young and in love, and feeling like everything made sense. Kurt thought it was brilliant, but Jean had complained that all songs on the radio were about young love and passion. She had a point, he supposed.

He started to hum louder, his brow furrowing. How long did Scott say he would be gone exactly? And why was normally unflappable Scott Summers so frazzled? He had wanted to ask Kurt something, but then suddenly up and left, with barely an excuse. 

Kurt frowned. He had promised Scott he would wait, so that is what he would do. He attempted to pass the time by burying his head in his book, but there was only so much he could read about native and invasive species of the Hudson Valley while the impatience for his friend to return occupied the back of his mind. 

After just a few minutes, the lines on the page just seemed to run together. Kurt found himself skimming the same sentence over and over. Kurt found himself skimming the same sentence over and over. Not even the pictures could occupy his interest. Ororo certainly would have been fascinated with how they could use their powers to help stop the spread of _Hydrilla verticillata_. Sadly for Kurt, his thoughts were on a different friend.

"Ach, meina Gott. Where is he?" Kurt whined to the vast, empty house. The old building might have creaked in the wind, but this building was brand new- silent. Kurt wasn't fond of silence.

He closed the book, gently placed it on his lap, and crossed his arms. With an indignant huff, he leaned his head back against the window, feeling the sun warm his skin. He tried closing his eyes, taking a little nap while basking, but his legs refused to stop jittering.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to nod off, Kurt creaked open one of his amber eyes and peered at his watch. The second hand ticked along merrily, seeming to move slower the closer to the 12 position it got. It mocked him. 

Kurt turned his body slightly to look outside. It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright, with a few fluffy white clouds to occasionally shield the children playing and laughing from its harsh rays. The sky was bright blue, and its brightness seemed to reflect off of everything else. Kurt considered just bamfing outside to play with some of his classmates, but he mostly played with Scott. Most of his other friends weren't fond of playing frisbee with him. They said teleporting was cheating. Kurt vehemently disagreed.

He sighed loudly. He suddenly felt very foolish, sitting in a remote corner of the mansion, just for his friend to return. Scott would understand if he… went to go do something else, right? 

Kurt checked his watch again. 16 whole minutes had passed. He worried his lip and balled his hands into fists. Was Scott alright? Maybe he felt ill? But Kurt knew that Scott wouldn't be embarrassed by that- he would just tell him, wouldn't he? 

Scott had wanted to ask him a question, but then bolted. Kurt's brow deepened in thought. He scratched at his hair, but he had honestly no idea what it could be about. 

Kurt, bored out of his mind, picked up his book again. He flipped through the pages, looking for a more interesting chapter. By chance he came upon _Dodecatheon meadia_ , the Shooting Star, sometimes referred to as the Pride of Ohio. His mouth twitched in a little smile, thinking of Scott.

His smile fell almost as fast as it formed. He remembered the way he had so selfishly insisted that Scott should be proud of where he comes from. It was all Kurt had, after all; as bad as it could be, there was always a little good. But Scott had been pretty offended. Kurt wished he could take it all back. And then- and _then_ , he had bored Scott with his talk of plants. To pour salt in the wound, he remembered was the expression. Kurt's hands started to shake. Of course Scott didn't want to be around him.

Kurt wanted to throw up.

He raised his arm to hurl his book in disgust, but it was a book from the local library in town, so he instead set it down on the cushion, but not _that_ gently. 

"Ach, Kurt, du bist so ein Dummkopf," he spat in High German. He knew Scott wasn't going to come back. He would probably meet Kurt later, have the decency to sport a sheepish look on his face and apologize for 'forgetting' or something.

Kurt didn't even care. Well he did, but he figured if Scott had ditched him (he thought that was the right word), then he could ditch Scott too. He picked up the boring book about his boring hobby and then with a loud crack in the air, nothing was left of him but a cloud of inky blue fog.

He rematerialized outside of Jubilation's room, standing with his shoulders hunched, rubbing his hand nervously with his book. 

"Jubilation," Kurt called softly, ever so tenderly rapping his fist once on her door frame. Inside the buoyant girl's room, he could hear synthpop playing lightly from her boombox, along with the occasional grunt, and then contented sigh. Was she in pain? 

"Jubilation," he said a little louder, this time knocking twice on her door, a little harder. 

"Come in," a bubbly voice sang out, followed by a low moan and the sound a joint popping. Kurt gingerly twisted the doorknob with his clumsy fingers and shuffled inside Jubilation's room.

"Hallo," he said shyly, his eyes widening somewhat seeing Jubilation sprawled out on a mat contorting her body into fantastic positions, her boisterous hair tied back into a giant bun, wearing very short neon yellow shorts and an electric green shirt that hung off her shoulders, matching her hot pink scrunchies. 

"Namaste, Kurt." Jubilation smiled at him. "Love the glasses. Your whole law student ensemble is working great. Ugh, your color contrasts are immaculate. I've taught you well," she said all this bending over backward to speak to Kurt upside down.

Kurt's tail began to swish excitedly. Her apparent go at contortion reminded him of his days in the circus, as a revered acrobat. It made him almost miss his old life. But the good came with the bad, that was an unavoidable fact. He was glad he was where we was then and there, with his new family in Westchester, New York.

"I love how you wag your tail like a dog when you're happy, and I love that you're happy to see me," Jubilation's perky voice rang out over the tunes humming from her stereo, interrupting the Kurt's inner monologue. His cheeks burned from the compliment. 

"What are you doing," Kurt asked, genuinely confused as to what would possess this tiny girl to try her hand at contortion.

"Yoga, silly," was her chipper reply.

"Yo…ga?" Kurt sounded out slowly. "Is this another aspect of American culture?" he asked quickly. He hoped to impress his friends by how fast he learned, how eager he was to absorb everything he could. He wanted them to know he was grateful to be living here, after all.

Jubilation let out a breathy laugh, hopping up and pausing her cassette tape. Kurt gasped and covered his eyes when she faced him, seeing her midriff so directly. The girl's giggles erupted into snorting bursts of laughter at the sight of Kurt's tail whipping wildly around while he hid his face in behind his giant hands.

"You're too precious, Wagner, it's just me. I'm not shy." Jubilation removed his hands from his face. Her soft touch felt like a hot iron against his ugly, deformed, scarred hands, but he managed to keep his face from twitching too obviously.

"Yoga," Jubilation began to explain, walking around her room and breathing deeply, pausing to stretch every now and again," is a part of the Hindu religion, it's a very spiritual processes, aligning the soul and the body. It's incredibly healing."

Jubilation looked Kurt up and down a few times. "You should try it, you look tense as all getout Kurtle Turtle, I can see your shoulders trying to implode from here."

Kurt's eyes lit up at Jubilation's cute American nickname for him. It was one of several, but this was his favorite. 

"I would like to try this yoga, mein Freund, but," his mouth scrunched up in worry. "Would it not be, blasphemous, to… to practice this, religious thing? It is not in the Bible…"

Kurt trailed off when he saw Jubilation's bemused face. Right, he knew not everyone believed what he did, and that this was a core aspect of American Culture. Kurt had had quite enough of friends blowing off other friends for the day! So instead he shook his head.

"Nein- I mean! Ja! I want to try it, let God decide if He finds it displeasing," he said with resolve.

"Great!" Jubilation shouted. "You'll need to change into something better for this kind of intense exercise," she told him, her mouth scrunching into a smirk. 

"Genau," Kurt nodded, and flashed out of the room. He appeared in his room in an instant, immediately setting his book down and trotting over to his dresser drawer, looking for clothing suitable for exercising. He settled on a plain white tank top, and he had to raid Scott's room for running shorts. He hoped his super flakey friend wouldn't mind. At first he was confused because he was pretty sure Scott's name wasn't Nike, but he didn't think much of it.

Kurt looked at himself in the mirror. His skinny arms were bare, the intricate scars winding down them. It made Kurt feel sick to look at them. However, his mouth twitched in amusement when he noticed that Scott's short shorts were even smaller on him, almost all of his thighs showing, not quite as dark blue as the rest of him, and with fewer raised welts carved into them. He didn't think they were quite so ugly as his arms.

"Hmm, what else should I wear," Kurt wondered aloud, tapping his chin. He ended up bamfing to Peter's room to borrow some of his sweat bands, to wear them like Jubilation was. He slid two around his ankles, two around his wrists, one at the base of his tail (that took some patience and maneuvering), and a headband on his forehead. 

"I look great," Kurt concluded, only slightly cringing when he immediately knew what a horrendous lie that was.

Jubilation shrieked when he cracked out of thin air right next to her. She fell out of her pose and landed with a thud on her side. He hoped she had not sprained anything!

"Sorry! I'm sorry! Oh Goodness, I forgot to knock on your door," Kurt blabbered, trying to help her up. 

"It's alright, Wagner, you just startled me is all." She accepted his hand and he deftly pulled her up- she was very small, after all.

"You look perfect!" She laughed. "Want to get started?"

Kurt nodded his head furiously.

She led him through some easy poses. They started with downward dog and progressed from there. Kurt shot Jubilation a huge toothy grin when he noticed her staring at him with jealousy. He was naturally gifted at this sort of thing.

"Alright, I'm done for the day," the girl panted.

"Oh, really? I was enjoying myself, and you're right. It is relaxing and… cleansing," Kurt said, his legs folded over his back and planted delicately on his shoulders while he propped himself up on his elbows, hands on his chin.

Jubilation stared into his eyes softly, then abruptly got up and hurried the hallway bathroom, returning with two cups of water and a faint blush on her cheeks. 

"Here, stay hydrated Kurteus Maximus," she chuckled and held out one of the styrofoam cups. Kurt loved that nickname too, because he assumed it was a play on the word 'courteous' which meant polite, which Kurt loved to be.

He accepted a cup with his tail, holding it up to his lips and taking a sip. "Danke, mein Liebling," he smiled brightly. Jubilation undid her giant hot pink scrunchie and let her hair cascade over her shoulders. 

Jubilation plopped down on her yoga mat next to Kurt, who reluctantly slinked out of his pose, making sure to never drop his cup of water. He crossed his legs across from her. Jubilation eyes widened at the sight of Kurt's (well Scott's, well actually Nike's) shorts barely covering any of his thighs. 

"Okay, Wagner, something's got you stressed. This can't be totally solved by yoga, we have to get to the psychological problem behind this," his diminutive friend got straight to the point, after shaking herself out of her stupor. 

"Well, yes, everything generally is stressful," Kurt replied, wanting to seem at ease but already tensing, his instincts telling him to put his guard up.

"What specifically…" she cocked an eyebrow. 

Kurt's lips trembled and he searched around the girl's room, as if he were incredibly interested in her decorum. When she leveled her stare at him, he caved. He couldn't keep secrets from Jubilation. She was too kind, too trustworthy, too free of judgment.

"It's Scott," he blurted out, ears twitching and tail drooping. "He, washed me out to hang, or, nein, he left me out to wash, ja that's the phrase. And, and, I don't know, I feel bad, for leaving when I promised I would wait, but he made me wait for no reason, and- oh dear this all sounds so petty…" Kurt flushed and rubbed his throat to hide his embarrassment. 

"Oh," Jubilation replied, seeming disappointed about something. 

"It's so confusing, the feelings he makes me have," Kurt continued, opening his floodgates.

"What kind of feelings," Jubilation asked cautiously.

"Ach, I'm not sure. Like there are, caterpillars in my belly. He is… warm. Not like Ororo, or you, or Jean even too. He is… good. When it is just he and I, alone, I mean, it feels… safe, special, like it is our little secret. I like it. He always treats me so gently" Kurt felt his lips forming into a smile without his permission. "Except today," the smile faded away.

Jubilation had put her head in her hand, her lips parted in understanding, nodding slowly. 

"So, Kurmit, have you ever considered that you like, like Scott? Like, _like_ like him?"

Kurt scratched his head. "Um, that would depend on what you mean?"

She cracked a small smile, "I mean, do you think you have a crush on Scott?"

"I do not think I have the strength to crush Scott," Kurt laughed. "Is this what like liking someone means? It seems to mean liking someone enough to say you like them twice?" he asked in amusement.

Jubilation sighed bodily. "Are you, Kurt Wagner, in looooove, with Scott Summers?" she sounded out slowly, her hands gesticulating wildly with each syllable.

Kurt's eyes shot wide open, a smattering of plum shading his cheeks. He suddenly felt very itchy. 

"I- I don- I… I-" his mouth opened and closed like a fish gulping down water. 

"Kurt, it's okay to like boys," Jubilation said tenderly. Kurt's blush deepened. The purple hue spread to his ears and neck, blisteringly hot. Kurt poured the water down his throat, but it didn't help.

 

Kurt felt lightheaded, and a little queasy. His hands felt cold, but his face was way too hot. He feared he might pass out. Could it be true? Did he have romantic feelings for Scott? The Bible had always been clear… but, it was true wasn't it? 

Kurt had never fantasized about marrying someone or owning a home and having children. He never had that luxury working at a circus and looking the way he did. He knew it was an important milestone of American Culture. But he had simply not had the occasion to pine or lust after another human being, not when any attempt at love he made would be interwoven with automatic rejection. He simply hadn't…

But with Scott… it was different. With Scott, he didn't feel that inherent rejection, except for that day. But if Kurt squeezed his mind, he could wring out the image of the two of them, as a… couple. 

Kurt didn't want to start hyperventilating, so he pushed the thought out of his mind. But that magnetic pull, that indescribable allure of Scott Summers… maybe Jubilation was right? 

"I'm not sure, Jujube," he answered with his own playful nickname (though he pronounced it as yuyube). His voice was cautious and thick.

"Is it possible, for two boys I mean, to love each other that way?" His voice was barely a creak above a whisper. 

"Of course!" Jubilation said like it was just the easiest thing to understand and accept. "You do know that Ororo and Jean are dating, right?" 

"Really?" Kurt breathed. He swallowed thickly, folding his hands together tightly. He licked his lips. "O-oh, I thought that when Ororo said she liked Jean and wanted to ask her out, she was conveying her appreciation for her friend, and wanted to ask her to go to the mall with her."

Jubilation laughed. "Yeah, they like each other, in _that way_ ," she flexed her eyebrows to add emphasis. "And you're completely allowed to like Scott that way. It's the 80s, everything is cool."

"Um, I- um, I need time to think about this, it's… beunruhigend- uh… I mean, unsettling, to me." Kurt wrung his thumb while his tail curled around him. He didn't feel so much like fainting after Jubilation's kind words of support, but his stomach hurt, and this added far too many layers to his sense of hurt that Scott apparently didn't want to be around him. 

"Hey, you know what? You should ask Scott to the dance!" Jubilation's sunny voice cut through his thoughts. 

"Wås? I mean, was?, ach, I mean, what?!"

"The dance, this Friday? Did you know about that?"

Kurt shook his head. "Why would I need to ask Scott to dance? I'm so confused, in America, do you prearrange your dances? Is dancing not encouraged unless organized first?"

Jubilee was giggling so hard her face turned red. "No, you jelly bean, the local high school is hosting an organized dance. It's a school function, it's just a dumb way to encourage social posturing and pair bonding while keeping women expectant on the favors of men," she rushed out in one breath. 

Kurt nodded along like he understood anything she had just said. 

"I'm saying," Jubilation continued, nodding her head along with Kurt's, until he stopped with a blush, "is that you should ask Scott to go. To see if you like him _in that way_.

"Could this work?" Kurt mused. "So, you can go to dances as well as malls when you like like someone?" 

"That is the essence of it," Jubilation said, shaking her head bemusedly.

"But, one more question, very important: what if Scott says no, or worse, is angry that I asked him to a school function to encourage social posturing and pai- the rest of what you said?"

"Scott could never be angry with you," Jubilation said softly, she took Kurt's hands in her own, and he felt the familiar white hot brand. He never felt it when Scott touched him…

"And what's the harm? You really think I and the girls would let Scott get away with hating you for liking boys? We'd destroy him."

"Please don't," Kurt mumbled. 

Jubilation chuckled. "I say, ask him to the dance, if you chicken out, just say you want to go as friends. That happens too sometimes. If he doesn't want to go no matter what, then, so? You don't get to spend a few hours in a crowded sweaty gymnasium listening to _subpar_ music? It's not a super huge deal."

Kurt's tail twitched in dejection. It simply couldn't work. Scott was mad at him already, and very much into girls. And while Kurt mostly was used to people staring at him for being blue, he didn't think he could handle being in a gymnasium full of high school students staring at him for dancing with Scott! 

"So are you going to ask him?" Jubilation prodded.

"Ask who what now?" Peter's voice jut into the conversation, startling both teens. Kurt bamfed onto Jubilation's bed, hugging his knees. A few stray papers blew into the room thanks to Peter's super speed.

Peter wasted no time. "Dude, I've been looking for you; it took me like a whole _four_ seconds. We've got training. Mystique wants our asses in the danger room. Prontoooooo."

"I was just telling Kurt he should ask Scott to the school dance this Friday," Jubilation answered Peter's intruding question with a wry smile. 

"Oh, that stupid dance Xavier is making me chaperone? Now this is _way_ more interesting than training. Forget Mystique, spill _all_ the details," Peter threw himself down onto the yoga mat Kurt had been using.

After Jubilation had spent a few minutes detailing everything that Kurt had admitted to her, and their subsequent conversation (much to Kurt's horror, he thought his face might be permanently stained violet), Peter's face was split into a horrifyingly massive grin.

"Oh, we are so playing matchmaker on this one. By the time Jubes and I are done with you, Scott will be falling all over himself to go to the dance with you," Peter giddily told Kurt.

The speedster and Jubilation exchanged a high five. 

"Oh mein Gott…" Kurt didn't know if he would make it out of this one unscathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Kurt Wagner :'(
> 
> Anyway, my favorite part about writing him is trying to think like him, his weird little parsing of American culture and the English language. It's fun.
> 
> Also he pronounces Jubilation like Yubilation, and no one has the heart to correct him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the hiatus. Clinical Depression + School = Nonproductivity

"Late!" Mystique's imposing form shouted from the center of the Danger Room. Peter had zipped past her, causing her (and everyone else's) hair to fly wildly. Kurt had bamfed directly into the room, knocking over Ororo in his haste and lack of concentration.

He muttered apologies, his tail whipping around, his hands fumbling to help his friend from the floor. 

In the midst of tenderly pulling Ororo to her feet, Kurt locked eyes with Scott's glasses. 

Scott could see a faint blush on Kurt's cheeks, even with the dim lights of the Danger Room hiding everyone in relative shadow. He felt a chord of guilt twist around inside him. Peter glanced at the two, and put his hand kindly on Kurt's shoulder, before Kurt tore his gaze away, putting his own hand over Peter's and smiling shyly.

Scott raised his eyebrows. He knew that Kurt was friends with practically everyone, but he never thought Kurt was especially close with Peter of all people. What had the two of them been doing? He panicked for a second, thinking that Kurt and Peter… 

Peter was like, 25 or something!

But it was too stomach turning to think about Peter and Kurt, _that way_ , to think about Peter touching Kurt, to think about Peter even _thinking_ about Kurt that way, so he shoved those thoughts away. Far, _far_ away. 

"Eyes up here," Mystique huffed, demanding the young heroes' attention. 

"Today you'll be training to- LATE!" Mystique roared as Jubilation panted and sputtered into the room, dripping sweat, hands on her knees.

"Neither of you could have _carried_ me here?" she asked Peter and Kurt in disbelief. Scott bit back a sharp laugh.

"Today," Mystique continued, her voice filled with venom. "You'll be training to avoid concussive high energy photon blasts in open terrain."

Peter raised his hand. "So we'll be dodging a giant laser?"

Mystique's frown lines must have been permanently etched into her blue skin at that point. "No, Quicksilver, it means you'll be avoiding and attempting to disable a giant concussive beam- the same that Cyclops shoots. Not a laser, a concussive beam."

"Laser, concussion blast, either way sounds potentially pretty painful," the speedster said nonchalantly, arms crossed, while Mystique stifled a groan.

"Life is painful. And a laser would outright kill you, so be grateful you're getting pain and not incineration. Now, since you three," she gestured to the latecomers, "don't value the team's, or your own, or most importantly, _my_ time, you can go first." The surly woman pointed to a monstrous looking cannon mounted on the floor, way in the back of the room. 

"I designed it myself," Hank said proudly from behind his control panel by the door. "It shouldn't hurt too much if you get hit, just so you know, the energy output isn't _that_ high."

"Teams of three," Mystique ignored Hank. "Disable the weapon-"

"B-but please don't destroy it," Hank pleaded from his perch.

"-and don't get hit. It's that simple." Mystique further ignored her colleague. "First, warm up. I want you all doing crunches and pushups until you abdominal muscles rupture. Let's go!"

Scott took that as his cue to get closer to Kurt. He walked up next to him and slumped down on the floor, sighing. He wanted to be as close as possible to Kurt without making it seem weird. He just wanted to feel Kurt's body next to his, was that too much to ask?

"Hey," Scott said shyly, as Kurt gracefully lowered himself onto his back next to Scott. The image was very unhelpful.

"Oh… servus," Kurt said, worrying his lip. "I-I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"What for?" Scott asked with a laugh, glad that Kurt at least wanted to talk to him. He always felt so calm and secure around Kurt, like he was a living hug, there to comfort him. Going too long without Kurt skittishly hovering near him, it felt like he was missing a part of himself. It was funny: Kurt was like a tiny mouse, but Scott felt safe around him. 

"For being late, and making you do so many exercises," Kurt explained, his tail curling around itself as it wriggled.

"Oh, it's not a big deal, Kurt," Scott said with a shrug, lowering himself into the crunch position. Kurt's face lit up when his friend said his name, and Scott's stomach churned at the sight. 

"I'm sorry for running off earlier, I felt like I was going to barf, but it's gone now." No, the urge to barf was definitely still there.

"Oh…" Kurt's face clammed up on itself. "Are you sure?" His hair looked disheveled against the mat, but his eyes were wide and curious. His eyes were always so open and inviting.

"I'm not lying," Scott lied.

"Well, I'm glad you feel better," Kurt shot Scott a tiny smile. 

Silence hung in the air between them as the rest of their teammates settled down to start their warm-up. 

Mystique stalked by, her shadow looming over them. "Since you have time for smalltalk, you also have time to do thirty extra crunches. Everyone begin, one every second, don't think I won't notice you falling behind!"

Everyone groaned as Mystique starting counting in her gruff voice. Scott paced himself, but after 60 crunches his neck was sore, his abs started to burn, and he was struggling not to shake. The fact that Kurt was letting out pained little gasps with each situp only added to distract him. But somehow he survived the ordeal. Mystique in a rare show of mercy decided to give them a minute to rest.

Scott laughed nervously, holding his stomach. "Is she trying to make us hurl?" he whispered. "And we still have pushups to do, someone kill me."

Kurt's eyes widened comically. "A-are you still ill? You- you should tell Mystique, there is an extremely slim chance she will understa-"

Scott snickered, "I was just joking Kurt. You know, like I'm too fat for all this exercising business?"

Kurt's head cocked to the side. "But you aren't overweight mei Freind? I don't understand what you mean. Do you mean to say you _don't_ feel sick? I thought you said you had?" 

"Everyone in position!" Mystique's razor sharp command split the air. The two of them silently flipped over to their fronts. Kurt was still eyeing Scott with a puzzled expression.

"Well I really was sick earlier, but I'm not now," Scott explained with a little less confidence than before. Kurt wasn't naïve, as much as the language barrier made it seem. Scott knew he was suspicious, his beautiful blue face showed it plainly. But his face soon softened, even biting down on a smile.

"Well, maybe it is all the Artzpfeffer you drink, no?" Kurt chuckled.

"Dr. Pepper is the beverage of champions, you dildo," Scott hissed, playfully punching Kurt on the shoulder. 

Kurt paused from raising himself up to cock his head at Scott again. 

"What is a dildo?" 

And if the sight of Kurt on his knees, his rear end sticking up in the air, his tail swishing curiously, his eyes wide and trusting, asking his best friend to explain what a dildo was to him didn't send Scott's hormones into overdrive, nothing ever could. It was like a scene straight out of one of Scott's more recent wet dreams, not that he'd ever admit that.

"Begin!" Mystique yelled, snapping Scott's attention to the present again. "Same as before: keep up, or else." 

"I'll tell you later," Scott whispered out, before lowering himself down every other second. Scott was better at pushups, easily keeping up, barely breaking a sweat. He noticed Kurt started to struggle after a while, little moans escaping his lips as he almost shakily pushed his body off of the ground. He silently cheered him on, noticing that Kurt was glancing at him right back. Scott shot him a smirk.

A faint smattering of purple found its way to Kurt's face. Scott saw his eyes dart down to look at his exposed arms. 

When they had been released from their torture (only the second of the day), Kurt panted lightly and stuck his hand out, barely ghosting his fingertips along one of Scott's biceps. Scott felt a shiver run down his spine.

"You are so strong," Kurt mused, almost to himself. Scott's head almost spun at the compliment. He forced himself not to blush. 

It looked like Ororo's advice was working, without him even meaning to do anything, which was nice.  
__

"Your greatest asset is not your personality," Ororo explained, stuffing her duffel bag with some of Scott's extra towels. 

"Gee thanks," Scott drawled. 

"I'm not saying Kurt wouldn't like your personality, obviously he tolerates being around you, for some reason," Ororo snipped, zipping up her bag. "I'm saying that Kurt is a boy. If there's anything I know about boys, it's that they appreciate the body more than the personality. And you've got it, so flaunt it." 

"She's right," Jean added, sneaking in a kiss on Ororo's neck, snaking a hand around her waist. "Ororo says Kurt never shuts up when they garden. She hears a lot of things... about you."

"It's a very honest place," Ororo confirmed. "It's a place of comfort for our blue friend, and he's quite chatty when he's comfortable. I know I promised never to tell anyone, but Kurt… wouldn't mind if a boy asked him to the dance, if you catch my drift. I mean, by the way he was gushing about the West German Olympic gymnastics team, it was pretty obvious. He has a thing for athletic men," she concluded matter-of-factly.

Scott nodded, trying not to bristle with jealousy from the way Kurt was so close to Ororo... and trying to get the image of Kurt and the FRG gymnastics team… together, out of his head. 

"If you want to impress Kurt, I mean really make him weak in the knees," Jean added, "the Danger Room is the place to do it. Maybe you'll fool him into thinking you're charming after all," she smirked and swung Scott's door open with her mind.

"Now let's go, before we're late. You know what a hardass Mystique is. Not to mention how badly your room reeks."

Scott jotted down mental notes as he picked up his bag. He probably should clean up whatever was causing that funk. But more importantly, he had a good idea how to solve his all important problem: if he could hit one of Kurt's buttons, so to speak, Kurt would be putty in his hands. It would be too hard to say no to an invitation to the dance when he was so inexorably aroused by Scott's manliness, wouldn't it?  
___

Scott put on his signature confident smirk, flexing his arm while Kurt touched it gently. 

"I guess Dr. Pepper is like my spinach," Scott said casually, though inside he was burning up. Kurt squinted in bemusement. 

"I don't understand whatever reference you're making, but I take back what I said," he breathed.

"It's no big deal," Scott chuckled. "I- are those my shorts?" 

Kurt and Scott's eyes both darted down to Kurt's legs. Sure enough the long blue limbs were barely covered by Nike running shorts that definitely belonged to Scott. Kurt's cheeks tinged violet. "I was just borrowing them," he admitted through his bangs. 

"Kurt, when you borrow someone else's pants, you ruin them!" Scott almost laughed incredulously. Kurt twisted himself around to look at the ragged hole poked through Scott's running shorts where his tail fit through. 

"Oh," he said. "Well, I suppose you don't want them back now... I can keep them? Unless you do want them back," he added quickly, "I can't stop you if you want to take them off of me." 

He blinked twice at Scott, his mouth forming an innocent smile. The way his tongue darted out to lick his lips was not lost on Scott.

Scott blinked (unbeknownst to Kurt) as his mouth fell open. Was Kurt _flirting_ with him? No, it had to be the language barrier. There was _no_ way Kurt just made an innuendo about Scott tearing his shorts off. 

"Alright, that's enough lazing around!" Mystique barked. She certainly had a talent for interrupting any conversation Scott tried to have with Kurt, though given how she had saved him from humiliation twice already, he might thank her for it. 

"Quicksilver, I'm making you team leader for your squad. Form a strategy, take out the cannon; any of you get hit by the beam, and you're out. Everyone change into your uniforms!" Mystique continued. 

"Well, you can have them back now," Kurt said with a cheeky smile, playfully wiggling his behind and making to shimmy the shorts off. 

"Uh…" was all Scott could muster. He quickly shuffled off to the sleek cubicles that emerged from the wall containing all their uniforms. His heart was thrumming, and not just from the exercise. 

He noticed Kurt staring after him in confusion, hurt splaying across his face. Every time Scott took a step forward, something showed up to make him take two steps back. He cursed himself as he slid into his spandex and fasted his belt and slid his combat visor in place. 

Kurt chose to change away from him.

Scott stood nervously and watched as Peter blabbered on about his 'Master Strategy', which was just for him to speed around distracting it, while Kurt teleported Jubilation close enough to zap it with her powers and hopefully blow a fuse or something. 

"It'll never work," Jean muttered. "Peter's too fast. It won't lock onto him."

"Give them a chance," Ororo muttered back. 

"Begin!" Mystique shouted. On cue Hank powered up the forcefield to separate the participants from the observers. The cannon roared to life as it powered up. Metallic joints clinked as the mechanism altered the position and angle of the turret. Bright red sensors hummed as it tracked its targets. 

"Alright Team Sex Pistols! Let's show Team Genesis how thing get done!" Peter shouted triumphantly.

"Why are we Team Genesis?" Ororo questioned, looking genuinely offended.

"Because Genesis always has and always will suck," Peter smirked. 

"Focus," Mystique growled.

A loud whirring sound reverberated around the Danger Room, as the cannon fired at Peter, but he zipped away far before the beam could make contact. The cannon clinked as it adjusted itself and fired again, but Peter dodged it just as easily. He cackled wildly.

"What's the difficulty setting? One?" Peter shouted in amusement as he made dodging a horrifying weapon look like child's play.

If the cannon ever locked onto Kurt instead of Peter, he would simply bamf out of the way. That disoriented the weapon more than Peter whirring around the arena. If it didn't find Peter once Kurt teleported, it with an almost human excitement locked onto Jubilation, causing her to yelp and duck and roll out of the way.

Peter and Kurt worked hard to ensure the cannon targeted them more often than Jubilation. If one teammate was hit, the entire team failed. 

Eventually Peter had gotten the turret to target him one the far end of the arena, the opposite side from where Jubilation stood. He yelled for Kurt to complete the mission. 

"If I die, avenge me Comrades!" He yelled as he danced back and forth , keeping the beam focused on him but never let it hit him- though Scott noticed it getting too close for comfort a few too many times. 

"Comrade Steve Jones! Escort Comrade Johnny Rotten and execute the prime directive!" Peter yelled in a strange combination of delight and horror. 

"I guess I'm Steve Jones?" Kurt said in bewilderment. He grabbed Jubilation's elbow gently and bamfed them both right next to the machine. If its sensors picked them up, the machine couldn't do anything to stop them; the barrel of the turret was too long. 

Jubilation smirked, knowing they were as good as winners, and quickly stuck her hands up to a metal panel and let loose an array of tiny sparks. It slid off the side of the cannon and exposed a network of wires. She cracked her knuckles and poured over the crisscrossing network of copper and plastic, deciding which might shut off the power.

Kurt left her to her work while he continued to distract the cannon with Peter. " Comrade Johnny Rotten is in position, Comrade… Sid Vicious," Kurt laughed at Peter's ridiculous style of leadership. Peter gave him a thumbs up as they both continued to toy with Hank's baby.

"Ow!" Jubilation yelped as some of her fireworks backfired, shocking her hands. The cannon sputtered and sparks flew everywhere. Jubilation sucked on her finger and furrowed her brow, eyes darting back and forth.   
"I don't know what I just did you guys," she admitted.

"Jubilation are you hurt?" Kurt asked, arms reaching out in worry. He heard the sound of Peter tripping and making a spectacle of falling hysterically.

"No, I'm fine I- Kurt look out!" 

Kurt had been caught off guard for a few brief seconds. That was all it took. 

Scott watched in horror when Kurt grunted in surprise as the cannon, seemingly amplified by Jubilation's tinkering in the control panel, slammed into Kurt's back and sent him flying forward, until he hit the forcefield with a sickening thud. The beam held Kurt in place for several horrifying seconds.

"Nightcrawler!" Mystique screamed. "Hank, turn it off!" she commanded insistently.

"I- I can't!" Hank warbled, pressing button after button to no avail.

Then the cannon burst into flames and let out a high pitch whine as it powered down. Jubilation wiped sweat from her brow, her eyes wild with fear and guilt. She had finally disabled it. 

Without the beam, Kurt slid to the floor of the danger room, limp. 

Scott glanced worriedly at Mystique. She had put a hand over her mouth, her eyebrows high. He had never seen her look so afraid. The sight of it made Scott's stomach churn violently. Kurt might be seriously hurt. 

Hank, free from trying to shut down the cannon, immediately lowered the forcefield, and Scott didn't wait a second longer to sprint up to where Kurt was slumped on the floor, groaning weakly.

"Kurt!" Scott shouted. He sat down cross legged, and gingerly lifted Kurt's head off the floor and cradled it in his lap.

"Märci, Scott," Kurt moaned, still he let out a breathy chuckle. "That was more painful than expected. Sadly we lost." 

Scott rolled his eyes. "I don't think that matters at this point, you furry elf." 

"Still," Kurt sighed, before his breath hitched in pain. "It was a shame I allowed myself to be distracted. What if it had been a real enemy. I would be dead, and then what would you do?" 

"It was an accident," Scott explained, subconsciously brushing Kurt's bangs away from his forehead.   
"Don't joke about dying," Scott whispered softly. "I really don't know what I'd do if I lost you. We almost lost you in Cairo. I don't ever want to see you lying on the ground like that ever again." He wasn't ashamed the faint trace of a tear or two shimmered in the corners of his eyes.

"You care about me so much," Kurt hummed as his eyes struggled to focus. "You very goofriend," he slurred. "I liab di".

Scott understood that well enough. He blushed slightly, chalking it up to the fact that Kurt suddenly lost the ability to speak clearly.

"Obviously I care about you," he said with a smile. 

Kurt's hand found his and squeezed it gently.

Scott's heart raced frantically, but with Kurt lying so peacefully in his lap, his hand holding his, he started to calm down a little. It was almost kind of picturesque. Kurt lounging in his lap, staring up at him softly. The quiet intimacy of it all almost felt appropriate to ask a certain question. Scott cleared his throat, debating whether Kurt would appreciate the romantic gesture as he lay bruised and battered in Scott's arms.

"Kurt, d-do you maybe… maybe, I mean- wow this isn't the right time, is it? Well, um, anyway, do you-" 

He felt a furry hand tap him on the shoulder. 

"Ahem, Scott. I need to examine Kurt, please." 

Scott had never hated Hank. The big man was too lovable and nice. But at that moment Scott was seeing more red than his ruby quartz glasses usually caused him to. 

"Scott…" Hank waited remarkably patiently considering the situation.

Scott huffed out a 'fine alright', and reluctantly (incredibly reluctantly, _so_ reluctantly) slid Kurt's head off his lap, and scooted away, as Hank hunched over and prodded at Kurt in several places. He tenderly moved and bent joints around, taking off Kurt's uniform slowly and carefully, checking over his whole body. Scott looked away out of respect. 

"Nothing seems broken, but you've got some nasty bruises. Can you stand?" Hank asked. 

Kurt nodded, then hissed, holding a hand to his head. Hank tutted worriedly and helped Kurt to his feet. He whipped out a flashlight and shined it across Kurt's eyes, then hummed in displeasure.

"Why don't you go lie down in the infirmary? And _don't_ fall asleep, I think you might have a concussion. Come on, I'll take you there," Hank offered gently. 

Kurt muttered something of agreement and let Hank lead him out of the danger room. As they reached the door, Hank turned his head slightly. 

"I have to monitor him for the next 24 hours, so please don't disturb him until tomorrow night." He seemed to be aiming the declaration more at Scott than anyone else. "Actually wait for Wednesday morning, to be safe." 

And with that, the pair slowly and carefully walked away, Hank fussing over Kurt every few feet. Soon they reached the elevator and were out of sight. 

Scott's heart stopped in its tracks. He wasn't allowed to see Kurt for a whole day? More than a whole day! Jean and Ororo's plan was ruined. Scott wouldn't have enough time to prepare for the dance. 

"Alright, I think that was enough for today. Everyone hit the showers. And do your homework," Mystique's rough voice cracked. 

Scott despondently obeyed, chancing out of his uniform and following the rest of his teammates in awkward silence out of the danger room. 

When they reached the ground floor of the mansion, Ororo punched his arm softly.

"Don't give up. There's still time to ask. This is just a minor setback. Now let's go get some dinner." 

"She's right," Jean added, as the three of them began to make their way to the dining room. "The way you two looked, it was straight out of a romance novel. I could feel your energies. If you had asked, I don't doubt he would've said yes. You just need to wait for the next opportunity."

"It's not a minor setback," Scott sighed, rubbing his arm (Ororo didn't know her own strength). "He could have a concussion. What if Hank says he can't even go to the dance, even if I ask and he says yes?"

"Don't worry about that right now," Jean offered, pushing the large double doors to the dining room open with her telekinesis. 

Scott hummed, and numbly flopped down in a seat. Jean and Ororo made conversation while Scott mostly pushed around his peas during dinner.

"I haven't seen you this sad since you and Jean… ended things," Jubilation piped in from across the table. "Don’t worry, Kurt will be fine… I hope." She muttered. Scott knew she had no idea about the situation, but he appreciated her kind words. 

"I don't know why that bothered you that much anyway," Jean added , wiping her mouth with a telekinetically powered napkin. "I mean, we agreed that we were basically each other's beards, didn't we?"

"What?" Scott asked incredulously, the shock of Jean's blasé honesty hitting him full force. "No I- I still like girls, Jean. I liked _you_. I mean, I'm glad we're just friends, don't get me wrong, I've obviously moved on. But wow, it meant nothing to you?"

Jean rolled her eyes. "God, Scott we've been over this."

Ororo surreptitiously scooted her chair backward, recusing herself from the drama by getting seconds. 

"You _seemed_ to like me," Scott said pithily. 

Jean audibly sighed. "Don't be immature. Besides, that's easy to fake," she shook her head. "Why are you dwelling on me? Shouldn't you be focusing on Kurt?"

Scott's mouth hung open. "Who said I'm not focusing on Kurt? You just out of nowhere told me that you _faked_ it with me! How am I supposed to take that?" He asked indignantly.

Ororo returned with more mashed potatoes, eyes darting between the two exes. 

Jean rubber her temples in apparent anguish. "Yes, Scott Summers, I faked every orgasm with you. Sorry if that bruises your ego, oh well," she shrugged. 

Scott sputtered. "Well- I faked all mine too!" 

"I forgot I wanted another roll," Ororo supplied to no one, turning around sharply just as she was about to sit down. Jubilation quickly resounded her agreement, and fled the scene as well.

Jean scoffed. "That's physiologically impossible," she deadpanned. "Aside from the fact that you literally confirmed that it meant something to you. Either way you're _still_ losing sight of the goal. Kurrrrrt," Jean drawled.

"Sorry I have lingering insecurities, Jean!"

"We're done talking about this," Jean said agreeably, bringing a glass of milk to her lips.

"Ahem," came the dignified but recognizably British protestation. Both Scott and Jean jolted their attention to Xavier, sitting in the middle of the table, eyes narrowed in disapproval. Several of the other students were staring widely at the pair, some were snickering, the younger ones looking confused as to what the joke was. 

"Scott, Jean," The Professor intoned politely, nodding at each of them in turn. "Don't you think your topic of conversation is a tad _inappropriate_ for the dinner table?"

Scott's ears burned in shame, and even Jean's face flushed slightly pink. they both nodded wordlessly.

Xavier folded his fingers together in a steeple. "I think detention is in order. Tomorrow after your classes."

"Sorry, Professor," Jean mumbled humbly, shoveling potatoes into her mouth. Scott murmured his agreement. Xavier's eyebrow quirked.

"Oh it's not me you'll have to apologize to, children. Your detention will last through tomorrow's Danger Room exercises. You'll have to explain to Mystique just why you'll be absent from her training."

"Please, Professor X, you might as well kill us now!" Scott cried in dismay.

Xavier only smiled innocently as he brought a delicate forkful of roast beef to his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple things. This will be a multichaptered story (be a weird way to end a oneshot, wouldn't it?)
> 
> I also felt more confident writing from Scott's point of view after being told I was pretty good at capturing his voice. I guess we all love secretly a giant dweeb Scott. Also, I finally felt confident finding voices for Jean and Ororo, because I ship them SO hard. I'm also not very good at writing femslash, which I want to improve upon.
> 
> Also, if you think I'm just keysmashing for Kurt's German, I'm using (poorly researched) snippets of Bavarian, which is a dialect (some argue distinct language) in the south of Germany and in Austria. 
> 
> Servus means "hi", Pfiaddi means "bye", and Ba-ba just means "bye-bye". 
> 
> Minga is the Bavarian word for Munich, and Boarn is their word for Bavaria. 
> 
> "Wea is dau" means "Who's here?"
> 
> "Wås woist du? Woiast du ma ebbs zu sång" means "What do you want? Would you like to say something to me?"
> 
> "Deina Deitsch is sauwa-" means "Your German is quite-"


End file.
